


Death and Darkness

by Oparu



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Philinda AU Challenge, Spartacus style AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2294750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Spartacus: Blood and Sand AU.</i>
</p><p>Melinda is famous gladiator, Qiaolian, and Phil is house slave in the ludus of flowers where she trains. They rarely speak, but when they do, he never forgets what is said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death and Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Spartacus does a strange thing with their phrasing where they don't use articles 'a, the an', so I employed that in this fic. It's a little weird, but I think it helps make it feel more alternate.

She arrived when he did, in winter, when rain fell heavy. She held her head high as the old Domina, matriarch of Florina Ludus, checked her teeth and her muscle tone. She was young, as he was, and quiet. So many of their gladiators are so loud, so chaotic and wild, but she was controlled. Perhaps that’s what drew him first to her and her smile.

He saw latter rarely, as she trained. He watched; her muscles grew tighter beneath her skin. She is daughter of two legendary gladiators, born to the Arena: blood and sand. He is fatherless son, one whose family could not keep him and their debts. So he grew up here, first as slave of matriarch dead, now of young Domina, in Florina Ludus.

Entering Arena, she is Qiaolian, unstoppable gladiator. In ludus, in moments of quiet, she whispers that her mother called her Melinda.

Phillipitius is too much name for tongues, he whispers back, when next they speak. She repeats ‘Phil’ and smiles. He lives for that smile until next they speak.

It is weeks before he hears her voice again. She returns in glory from arena sands, bloody and victorious. Domina praises her, and all gladiators who have returned with life pulsing in veins. They have served gods and ludus.

He is permitted to follow medicus to her chambers to attend her injuries. Medicus explains they are minor, only in need of washing and binding. Medicus’ skills are required elsewhere, so he is given precious task of healing Melinda’s skin.

She pays little attention to him when he enters. Her mind must still roar with battle and song of crowd.

Kneeling at her feet, he wets cloth with warm water and sweet herbs, then wipes blood from her skin. Beneath dirt and dust, her skin glows golden in candle light. Phil takes time with her fingers, carefully binding knuckles that bleed.

She looks up then, eyes dark and worn. ”I left twenty dead.”

"Sacrifices for gods high above us."

She nods, but not in agreement. “I wonder if gods are below, washing themselves in rains of blood.”

"Your own life would be forfeit, if you refused to bring death. Crowds live for swing of your hands and steel."

He finishes binding her hands and reaches for her hair, taking it from leather binding so he can brush it clean. It flows over his hands, dark as ink. She smiles, finally, but her lips are weary.

"You take such care with my hair. More than the others."

"Your hair is soft."

"My hair is stiff with dried blood."

"It is not yours," he reminds her. "Gods be thanked."

She sighs, shutting her eyes. “Tell me, do what of house slaves dream?”

"Fields of flowers, oceans of grain, swaying in the wind. My mother’s voice."

"When did you last set eyes upon her?"

"Many years ago, before I knew sight of your face."

"One does not crowd out memory of other?"

"My mother lives free of dirt and anger in city’s heart. That shall be enough for me."

"My mother retired from Arena, wealthy and alive. She won her freedom, many years past, and travels land and sea."

"Did she not purchase you, so you could travel together?"

"When her freedom was won, I was already lost to her. Even wealthiest gladiator does not take enough gold from bloody past to buy flesh of beloved child. She could empty her pockets of gold and silver and still need barrels more."

"I am sorry." He drags his fingers and wooden comb through her hair. It falls soft now, free of flaked blood.

"My heart soars to know her free. Perhaps someday I will join her." Her smile has hope, if only meagre trace.

"Your deeds in arena are spoken from one end of Capua to other. Gladiators travel far to meet death at your hands."

"That is what I see when I gaze upon them. Darkness and death, which is all I bring to this world."

Domina’s voice rings through ludus, summoning Phil back to her side.

He dares to touch her shoulder before he leaves. “When I look upon you, I see only light, and sun rising in your smile.”

He disappears, taking comb and leather strap that bound her hair. Simple thing, no one will miss it, or question why he has it. Things of no value may be kept by slaves. His bed chamber is small; he can hide little, but this shall have a place of honour, for it has held her hair, as he wishes he could do again.


End file.
